Sunday, 20 May 2007

'BEWITCHED IN THE BURROW'

Dame Barbara has pronounced herself so charmed by the burrow, its inhabitants and environs, that she has embarked upon her one hundred and umpteenth Romantic Blockbuster which is to be entitled: Bewitched in the Burrow.The plot so far:

Lavenderblue Pantaloons, a simple young girl, has been sent by her mother to visit her old Grandpapa, Paul Wolfie, at Anticant’s Burrow. She sets out eagerly along the river bank, anticipating a chaste embrace from dashing young Ben Trovato on her arrival.

Traversing the towpath, she is hailed from the water by the Naked Kayaker, aka Zo-Zo Bare, who offers her a lift.Forgetful of her mother’s injunction never to canoodle with strange men, LavvyB steps gaily into the kayak and is whisked off down a tributary of the stream to the Pirate’s Lair, which is situated on a Yellow Duck Pond. Their arrival is greeted by an excited chorus of quacking marine bipeds.

Meanwhile, at the Burrow, the overdue appearance of Little LavvyB is causing concern. Her evil Grandpa, who is privy to the abduction, is dismissive of the others’ fears; but the Burrow Beadle, who has dandled Little LavvyB on his knee since she was a tiny tot and is her devoted admirer, insists on setting forth to ascertain her whereabouts. Girding himself with his second-best greatcoat, and accompanied by the faithful St. Bernard, Wooffie, bearing restorative brandy barrels, he sets off downstream…..

At this point, Dame Barbara retires to the Snug fortified by three hefty pink gins, and will be obliged for any helpful suggestions - strictly pure, needless to say - for the continuation of this mammoth bestselling epic.

" Meanwhile back in the kayack cockpit LavenderBlue was shocked. At the heat of the moment the waters erupted and there was a huge gush which was enough to rock the boat. As the kayak wobbled there was a strange and enchanted entity arising."Gosh", LavenderBlue said, "Jolly hockey sticks the bloody Pope is coming".Lo and behold from the Pirates Lair, once hidden by the waters of the Pond, the Pope arose and ......

"Bringing my aquatic popemobile to halt alongside the bobbing kayak, I said: 'Allow me, my pretty dear, to remove you from the vicinity of the gloomy Swagman and the lecherous Laplander, and to take you with me on my impending visitation to South America, whither I am now proceeding to inform the benighted descendants of the Incas, Aztecs, and other pagan cults that the wipeout fo their civilisations by Columbus, Stout Cortez and other sainted Christian warriors was precisely what their ancestors had been silently longing for - the blessing of the unknown God whom they were seeking, without realising it.'

To my intense surprise, the wayward child refused my holy bounty, perversely declaring that she preferred to listen to the friendly quacking of the denizens of the duckpond.

Lavenderblue returned very late to the Burrow.....Tired, wet and hungry..supported by the wonderful Ben and a slightly stricken Wooffie..who does not appear to like sharing the Brandy.Lavenderblue had a tiny snifter before Wooffie and The Naked Kayaker wrenched the barrel from her tiny frozen fingers.......left to sit in the cold mud whilst they sang gently to the furious moon,she willed them to return her to safety.When, finally, she fell through the door, it was to fall over the form of Dame Barbara and several empty bottles of gin.........A pair of trousers hung damply from a peg..........

Then from the slightly darkened room came a voice : " I know thish loochs shuspichus lavenderBlue but I can explain. It was my twin brother that did the dirty deed with Dame Barbara but that ruthless Anticant strung us both up".LavenderBlue looked at Trousers and then at the twin brother and said ...

Meanwhile, in the depths of the forest, a distraught Wolfie was scrabbling around on his hands and knees wailing "the keys! the keys" I've lost the keys to Pandora's Box, and without them I am powerless to unleash further mayhem upon the world...The Veep has murdered sleep; all the black gold in Saudi Arabia cannot grease this sweaty palm...."

He does not notice Miss Marple, lurking behind a nearby tree and memorising every word. As she does so, she glances down and there at her feet is a bunch of keys which she slips into her handbag and silently trots off back to the burrow....

only to find more strange goings on. Anticant was placing both Trouser brothers in the dreaded pillory. As the pair of trousers pleaded for mercy Anticant showed his equally dreaded tickling stick as Lavender jumped up and down with frantic joy.

About Me

anticant is the blogname of a lifelong free speech and civil rights campaigner. A lot of his life since WW2 has been taken up with battling against cruel and over-bossy laws, censorship, censoriousness, and Nanny Knows Best types. Now elderly and in poor health, anticant hopes his memories and thoughts will be of interest to those engaged in today's struggles for freedom, democracy, and a more hopeful tomorrow.
e-mail: anticant@hotmail.co.uk